CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The mention of the meat raffle sends the GITs into a
panic. They’re rummaging through their pockets, crawling around the floor and
generally flapping about while shouting things like “I had them earlier” , “If
you see a green strip, that’s mine”, “Well where the hell did I put them for
safekeeping”. The Count is fumbling down the front of his hot pants mumbling,
“They were there earlier”, but all he can find is the spare condom that Joe
lost from his wallet in an earlier chapter.
Before continuing here it has to be explained that
the following bit of weak wordplay was written before Joe published his chapter
with the “What’s a Wat?” routine and I’m not going to throw mine in the bin
just because it’s been done before. You’ll just have to put up with it.
Amid all this confusion Pants is standing on his
chair shouting to anyone who will listen, “What? What did he say? Meat waffle?
Why did he say meat waffle?”
Joe is shouting back, “He didn’t say meat waffle, he
said ‘waffle’ as in meat waffle.”
“No he didn’t,” says Pants, “He said waffle, meat
waffle. As in a crisp pancake with a grid-like pattern. Is that it? We’ve spent
all evening here only to be told who’s going to win the meat waffle? I spent a
bloody pound on raffle tickets tonight. I could buy a whole packet of waffles
for less than that. It’s a con. That’s what it is.”
“Slow down old thing,” shouts The Count, “It’s just
the way it’s written. Mr. Ross means raffle but you’ve misinterpreted it as
waffle. It’s an easy mistakatamaka old boy. It’s waffle, waffle.”
“Waffle? Waffle?” shouts back Pants getting
increasingly hysterical, “Waffle? Waffle? What the hell does that mean? There’s
no such word as waffle. Look it up. Look it up. There’s no such bloody word.
There’s waffle as in pancake and there’s waffle as in what we’re doing now but
there’s no waffle as in ticket! I don’t even like waffles. They’re sweet and
taste horrible and what a meat waffle would taste like is anybody’s guess.”
“Hang on,” says Marty, “I’m not so sure now. Maybe
Norrie’s going to give us a rambling speech about meat? You know, a meat
waffle? Perhaps it’s not about a waffle at all.”
“Oh this is ridiculous,” says Joe, “if we’ve all got
to sit through a presentation on meat by someone who doesn’t know her subject
then I’m off to the bar.”
“Hear hear old chum,” says The Count, “Count me in
Joe if you’ll excuse the pun.”
“Well this is all very confusing,” says Marty, “All
this talk of waffles has made me hungry but there’s still something that
doesn’t make sense.”
“What’s that Inspector, sorry we mean Marty?” the
GITs all shout at once.
“Why hasn’t Crawfie said anything?”
Mr. Biggins who just happens to be passing says, “He
hasn’t said anything because he’s up at the bar bashing the barman’s head on
the counter in time with every syllable he utters,
“Why-ave-n’t-you-got-an-y-meat-waf-fles-I-am-star-ving-mate!”
“Have you all got your tickets ready for the meat
waffle?” shouts Mr. Ross.
A huge cheer goes up and Mrs. Flagg as her alter-ego
Norrie wheels on stage a trolley sagging under the weight of various cuts of
meat. Mr. Ross continues, “The first ticket is blue, number 196…”
Channel 4 fade to the
adverts.
Channel 4 fade back from the
adverts.
“…and the final ticket for the two packets of streaky
is white, number 45. Oh, that’s me,” says Jonathan and amid the usual cries of
“Fix, fix”, “Draw again” he puts the bacon in his pocket.
“Ladies and gentlemen, while we re-dress the stage
for the crowning of King GIT 2006 there will be another quick
intermission.
Channel 4 fade to the
adverts.
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